Made in Heaven

MADE IN HEAVEN by Stefan

This is the final chapter. I hope you enjoyed the novel. Why not write me your opinion? Please check out my website under http://stefan680.tripod.com/stefanstories/index2.html

Chapter 17: Killing me softly

Maxim was in the middle of cleaning the dishes when he felt it. He hadn't thought about Christian for a whole day. It was late afternoon, and the day had gone by without his ex-lover entering his mind. Instead of he had thought about Tim. It was Saturday and he wondered what he was doing. He imagined him laying next to him in his bed. Seeing the moon turn his hair into a sea of dark-silver and his eyes into black diamonds. He was fed up with the other's white gold and the ice-cold, grey depths. Tim wouldn't cry out the wrong name at his highest peak. He longed for his breath upon his belly. He longed to hear whispered words of love.

He wiped his hands on a towel and rushed to the telephone. Tim answered instantly. "You have something in mind this evening?" he asked.

"No."

"Nine at "Made in Heaven"?"

He literally could hear Tim's heartbeat quicken. Yes, this was the night, he thought.

"Sweetie, afraid you have to sleep tonight in your basket", he said to Coco. He blinked and jerked up his ears. But he didn't look miffed.

The bar was packed and Maxim couldn't find Tim. Blue and red light flooded through the room and grey cigarette smoke curled up to the ceiling. He inhaled deeply the familiar scent for men's toilet water, sweat and alcohol. And there it stood, in the corner, his white piano. Untouched for so long. It itched in his fingers.

"Hey", he heard from the bar. "Stranger." Dario was there, serving the men. "I almost don't recognized you. How are things? All alone?"

"Not for long. Have you seen Tim?"

"Tim? Have you dismissed Christian?"

"Yes."

Dario's brows jumped up. "Congratulation. You have his phone number?"

"Sure. Go ahead and take my place." Maxim thought that Dario would be a real challenge for Chris. He would be interested to see the winner.

But Dario waved off. "Bad aura. I felt it from the start. Couldn't understand what you were seeing in him."

"But you..." Maxim broke off because he saw Tim entering the bar. He was dressed in his best blue, long sleeved shirt, the one with the white and silver little ornaments on its breast and back and he wore his white jeans. He looked ravishing.

"Two 'Sex on the Beach' then?" Dario asked.

"No, champagne."

"Champagne. Of course." Dario opened the fridge and carefully opened the plastic cork. "Everything you want, Sir. You have to celebrate?"

"Yeah." Maxim reached out the glass for Tim and both finished their glasses in one go. "One more, please."

Together they went over to the piano. Dario's eyes followed them. Life has really odd stories in stock he thought.

Tim placed his arms upon the piano and listened to Maxim's play. The loud music had stopped and he could hear the dancer's feet shuffle over the floor. But actually this was not what he longed for. His body was electrified from anticipation and the alcohol cursing through his veins. He could hardly wait for Maxim to stop.

And then Dario's voice came over the microphone "For Maxim, our piano player". Marc Almond's gentle voice started to sing and Tim gave him a beguiling-challenging-hungry look. He stretched out his hand and Maxim took it. He followed him to the dance floor. His body met Tim's and a blue, electric flame seemed to flicker between them. It was the magic of the night.

"Christian?" Tim whispered.

"Who is Christian?" Maxim whispered back.

Tim held a grin.

"I haven't thought of him for a whole day. So I thought it's time."

"Time for what?"

"To feel real love."

"Shall I write about it?"

"Yeah. Tomorrow." He held Tim close, sniffed his familiar scent, so much better than Christian's, so much more intoxicating and he felt his body reacting. This time he didn't fight it. He felt Tim chuckling at his cheek. "What are we waiting for?"

Maxim held Tim's hand and fumbled with the other with the key. Finally he managed to open the door, turned, looked at Tim and pulled him over the threshold. In the corridor both stood in darkness and breathed hard. A meow announced Coco, sitting at Maxim's feet. Tim bent down and took the cat into his arms. Instantly Coco started to purr.

A flash of memory hit Maxim: Christian picking him up to fly with him to Paris, Coco's hissing and showing his teeth at Christian and all his strange behaviour afterwards. He really should have listened to his cat - animals have a fine instinct.

"You remember the first night we shared together?" Tim said low. "When you left the bed so quickly Coco took your place in my arms." He looked down at the cat. "Right, sweetie?"

"Really? He never crept into the arms of another man in bed." He pulled Tim forward into the living room and lit a candle. It put a point of light into Tim's eyes. He put down the cat and Coco vanished as if he would leave both alone for whatever plans they had.

Maxim brought a bottle of wine from the balcony, uncorked it and filled two glasses. He was very calm. They had all time in the world. The whole night first.

Tim took his glass and clicked it with Maxim's. "To us", he said. "I've waited so long."

Maxim smiled and drank. Then he had an idea. He searched his collection of CD's until he found what he wanted. A moment later Marc Almond's gentle voice started again, telling both that something had gotten hold of his heart, keeping his soul and his senses apart. That something's gotten into his life that was cutting its way through his dreams like a knife.

Tim took Maxim's arm, shoved his own around Maxim's waist and pulled him close. Gene Pitney's voice threw in, telling them now that something's gotten hold of his hand, dragging his soul to a beautiful land; that something's invaded his night and painted his sleep with a colour so bright.

"That's the most beautiful song dedicated to another man", Tim whispered and Maxim agreed silently in pressing Tim's hand. He took his glass again and held it at Tim's mouth who drank and Maxim licked the running fluid from Tim's chin until their mouths found and kissed.

With his glass still in hand they moved to the music, enjoying their warmth and closeness until another song started, slowly and gentle as the one before. Then Tim removed the glass from Maxim's hand, put it on the table and started to unbutton Maxim's white shirt. One button after the other to reveal Maxim's smooth chest, running his fingers over it, stroking the brown nipples and his shoulders, and then slipped off the shirt completely.

The sleeves dangled to Maxim's sides because the bottom was still tucked into his trousers. Maxim grinned when Tim stroked now his covered arse and left the action completely to Tim. It seemed as if Maxim had given all his passion to Christian and left only tenderness. He felt his anticipation and arousal growing. Had he ever been so excited with Christian? No, not even at their dinner in Paris, when he had been seduced with lamb and ratatouille...

Tim then opened Maxim's belt and the zipper and pulled the trousers down his hips, the shirt fell to the ground and Maxim slipped out of his jeans completely. His tight pants couldn't hold his full erection.

Tim purred deep down his throat, kicked off his shoes and opened his shirt. His flesh was firm and the skin smooth like silk. Maxim embraced him, bare skin to bare skin and felt Tim's white jeans falling down. He kept him from stumbling when he struggled with the legs. Both laughed playfully, never interrupting their kissing, Tim's hands at Maxim's hips, stroking, feeling the material of the pants and finally embracing the round globes. They slid under them, touched naked skin, caressing an endless time. His fingers glided between the cheeks into the crevice, over the orifice, gently increasing the pressure.

Maxim quietly moaned and a wet spot began to appear on his underwear. He pressed his abdomen into Tim's, feeling the hardness there and Tim pushed back. He removed his hand and wet his middle finger and returned to Maxim's butt, began encircling the hole and softly started pressing his finger into it.

Maxim abruptly stood still and loosened his muscle. There was nothing to fear for him. He simply left himself to Tim's hands. His kisses became urgent, demanding, while Tim now stroked Maxim's bulge. He shoved down the pants and touched Maxim's penis which caused it to twitch and all Maxim could think was that he couldn't hold back for long. Tim's fingers were too gentle, too forcing, too aware of what they were doing, that Maxim froze and gushed his semen over Tim's hand and his own belly. "Oh shit", he said laboured. "I'm sorry."

Tim just grinned. "Even better", he said. "Premature ejaculations are my specialty."

"What?" Maxim looked at him in the darkness, saw his teeth gleaming and the white of his eyes.

"Now you'll be even more patient I mean." He kissed Maxim and pulled down his own underwear, revealing a hard on that matched Maxim's seconds before.

"Now what are we going to do with that?" Maxim whispered, stroking it. He certainly wasn't as heavy as Christian, but it would make things easier if that was what Tim wanted. He pressed his body to Tim's and started to move to the music again. It must have been a sight for sore eyes he thought briefly, grinning to himself. Two naked guys dancing around in the darkness of the night. Tim's erect penis rubbed his belly and so he went down to his knees and lapped at the shaft as Coco lapped off his bowl of milk. Finding Tim sweet smelling and tasting, he rushed to get the prize.

Tim was right. Once the first pressure had gone, it was great to make love.

He held Tim's trembling legs and found it was time to lay down. He kissed Tim's belly and licked off the white fluid. Then he pushed Tim in direction bedroom, but returned a second later to blow out the candle.

Tim had already stretched out between the bed cover, cushion and pillows. Maxim joint him, dismissing each thought that could remind him at Christian and their nights together. He felt Tim was genuine without any calculation and skilful dodging. His mouth was soft and his body invitingly open and relaxed. Again, Maxim sensed that he had all the time in the world and the night would never end.

He fell into his arms where they remained close together, moving gently and slowly. "It's as if the time between both nights has never exist", Tim said. "All the shit that happened in between."

"Ssht. Don't talk."

Tim's hands were all over, as was his mouth and his tongue, and Maxim responded as well. He moaned under the touching of his hole, felt the wetness of Tim's lips there, and under his smooth balls, then at his legs, the toes, until he caught Tim's erection between his lips, sucking and licking it, feeling Tim doing the same for him.

They fell asleep and awoke when it was still dark outside. Maxim blinked drunken from sleep and looked around. Tim slept facing him, a faint smile around the lips, the hair dishevelled, the limps heavy over his own body. In between them he sensed a soft and warm fur and a quick heart beat. Coco had returned.

He fondled the cat for a while but then put him gently out of the bed. Coco blinked and vanished slowly into his basket in the hall. Maxim grinned, turned to Tim and stroked the hair out of his face. His hand slid along Tim's body, the thigh, the splendid curve that led to his round butt and small hip, the arm, and kissed his fingers.

Tim rolled over to his stomach, mumbling something and Maxim bent over to plant a kiss on each globe, then parted them and wetted the crevice. Tim moaned and woke up completely. "Don't stop", he murmured, rolled to his back and revealed his hard cock. They looked each other in the eyes and knew what they wanted.

They united at dawn's beginning, Tim taking Maxim as deep as he could. It was completely different from what Maxim had felt when he had been with Christian. Again he sensed the genuineness of Tim's feelings, he heard him saying words he couldn't understand. Not before the blood stopped to rush in his ears, not before he felt Tim's explosion, not before he exploded himself. Then he heard his name and was happy.

The kiss was long and breathless and lasted until Maxim's cock shrivelled and he had to pull it out. They embraced, fell asleep and united again when the light of a rainy day filled the room. It was easy, Maxim thought, lying at his back, his legs over Tim's shoulders. It was so easy. No mistrust, no misunderstood passion, no wrong names called.

Tim was exceedingly gentle. Maxim hardly sensed his fingers slipping slowly out of his opening to be replaced with the tip of his penis. He wasn't afraid that the bad memories would return. He had healed a long time ago and there was nothing to be afraid of. Not as long as he trusted Tim. And he did. With all of his heart. It didn't need much effort to stay open for him. He felt Tim pushing and pause. A gentle approach, no frenzy.

Maxim's mind was clear, totally aware, not befuddled with lust and red fireworks behind his closed eyes. And it was good this way. He sensed each centimetre coming in, rubbing his insides, stretching and filling and touching. And when he finally sensed Tim's lips around the glands of his penis he had to suppress his outcry. There it was: lust and fire but in a different way. Consciousness.

They were connected from head to abdomen, from sense to heart and Maxim couldn't get enough of Tim's mouth, of his scent, of his hair, brushing his forehead, of his balls, slapping gently the insides of his thighs. It didn't end and there was no unease. Just devotion.

"My lips hurt", he heard Tim's voice when they had awoke much later. Dull light seeping through the curtains.

"Just the lips?"

"No. My body all over."

"Ah." Maxim rolled Tim onto his back and examined him. His cheeks were glowing from sleep and action. His lips were a little swollen, probably like his own. "That's the pleasure of gay sex!"

They giggled like two school boys. "I do love it."

They were inseparable for the rest of the Sunday, cut the phone line, turned off the front bell and enjoyed each other's company. It didn't mean that they hadn't been out of bed, as he did occasionally with Christian. As Maxim had wished, there were other things they could do. Talking for instance. Cooking together. Watching the news, discussing favourite books and films. It was then when Maxim noticed he had forgotten a book at Christian's home. "What is it?", Tim asked, laying next to him on the bed, dressed just with one of Maxim's pull-ups.

"A gift from my parents. Children's book. In Russian. Can you speak Russian?"

"Oh gosh, I could once. I was pretty good at it in school actually. But you know how it is: out of school, out of mind. I didn't use it anyway."

Maxim smiled and kissed his shoulder. "It doesn't help the fact I have to return to Chris' apartment to pick it up. I won't leave it there. I loved my Russian fairytales."

"So I do. As far as I can remember I had Russian fairytales too when I was a kid. Somehow everything got tossed with the clean-up of the basement. I do regret it." He sat up. "That means you have to go through the same procedure again, calling Chris, he opens the door, etc. I don't think it's a good idea to go alone."

Maxim shrugged. "Should be done quickly. And don't paint it black. Chris didn't behave oddly when we picked up the stuff the other day." He too sat up and faced Tim. "That was the best night I've ever had in my whole life."

Tim's ears reddened. "Me too," he said softly. "Are you still sore all over?"

Maxim nodded. "Have you thought about the future?"

"Future?"

"Well, yes. If we have different shifts we won't see each other that often. On the other hand, it's not that bad... and what about moving together, but where?"

Tim laughed. "Oh my god, Maxim! All on a good time. Don't book up our life already." He embraced his neck and played with his hair. "I'm happy with you. The rest will come."

"And what about mutual holidays?!" Maxim called out playfully. "Do you think they will find substitute for both of us then?"

Tim closed his mouth with his kisses. They fell back between the pillows.

The next morning - Monday - Maxim was supposed to be in the bookshop early while Tim had the late shift. He let him sleep and wrote a letter in the kitchen.

"Thanks for making me happy.

I love you, Maxim"

He wondered if he wasn't copying Christian in saying those words so early. But he just acted as he felt. He called him later on the phone, letting him know that he would go to Chris after work to pick up his book. So Tim didn't wonder when he couldn't reach Maxim later at home. But when he opened the door to Maxim's flat in the evening, Maxim wasn't there. Coco rushed on, complaining loudly about the lack of food and milk.

It had been so easy. Christian's heart had jumped with pleasure when he heard Maxim's voice close to his ear. What a clever idea of him to hide one of the books he knew would be missed, so he would have to return to him to pick it up. Strangely he came alone, Christian had thought he would arrive again with his friends in tow. Apparently Christian's smooth talk had fallen on fertile ground so he didn't have to start plan B.

He had left Maxim alone after he had opened the apartment for him. At least Maxim thought he had been left alone. But he then returned, locking the door behind him capturing Maxim. He wouldn't let him go again. Not for all the things in the world.

"Did you have a good night?" he asked suddenly behind Maxim's back. Maxim jumped and turned. He had his book in hand, ready to go. For good.

"Why do you ask?" Judging from Christian's face he knew that Tim had been with him. "Have you lay in hiding again? Why can't you leave me alone?"

"Why should I? You were so hot for me, you remember? Why should you have changed?" He came closer and gripped Maxim's balls. Just a moment of hot pain that shot through his body until the grip changed into a stroking hand. Maxim flinched nonetheless and tried to step away. It was that moment when he realized it was a mistake to have come back alone, cursing his carelessness. But had he really and truly imagined Christian would be able to harm him? No.

It took him a minute to muster up his courage. "And what do you plan to do now? Rape me? To show me how much you love me?" He lifted his chin and faced Christian's veiled eyes. "You've done it before."

"Let me tell you a story." Christian said calmly, releasing Maxim's testicles, but continuing to painfully clutch his wrist. He dragged Maxim onto the bedroom and made him sit down. He sat beside him. So close that Maxim could smell alcohol in his breath. His heart raced. Though this was now apparently the secret of Christian's past he would hear, Maxim didn't want to listen. His thoughts were focussed on finding an escape. Perhaps Christian just wanted to give their relationship a good finish. But Maxim sat as if on burning coals. You still defend him! You still find equivocations and subterfuges just because you don't want to admit that Christian - your big love - is a criminal and a psycho. And now you have to pay.

"My life has been influenced by death. Hasn't Gregor told you about my several attempts to commit suicide? He must have. I'm not sure if I ever actually was determined to succeed. At least I tried hard. But you know how it is with trying hard. If you want something that badly you will never reach it. I was the favourite of our mother. She valued me more because she and I were so similar. She must have felt it. Martin was the reasonable guy, even when we were kids. He got the good hiding for what I did, but it didn't stop us from being best friends. Twins are this way. Steadfastly chained to each other by the exact same genes. But there was one day when everything stopped." Christian glared into Maxim's eyes. Not blinking. "No, it started earlier. It started the night when I wanted to die with her. She had taken her usual sleeping pills. "Oh that reminds me, do you want a drink?"

Maxim shook his head, although his throat felt rough like sandpaper.

"Surely you want something." Christian stood up and vanished in the kitchen. Maxim listened for his steps, then he rushed out of the room, through the living room, into the small hall and shook the door. It was locked. Shit. He was captured and unable to run. His heartbeat somersaulted and he started to sweat. Tim's face appeared. What would he do when he realized Maxim hadn't come home? How could he have been so daft to go alone!? You're so naïve, Maxim Sageroff, it should make you sick actually. Damn it. Christian couldn't do this to him. Could he?

He would.

Christian stood behind him, sneering. "Want to leave me? I'm not finished with my story. You begged me to tell you, now listen." He stretched out his hand with a glass of water. Or whatever. Maxim stepped back.

"Drink. It's just water."

"You gave me tablets before. The last night I spent here with you", Maxim said fiercely.

"Did I?"

"You shouldn't have been so stupid as to leave reminants on the kitchen table."

"Ah!" Christian grinned. "That's the reason you left me, yes? Oh, come on, this little fun couldn't have disturbed you seriously. Didn't it feel good? Have you never fucked on dope?"

Maxim grimaced. "I'm not in need of that. My sex life is good as it is. I don't need help."

Christian laughed. "You don't know what you're talking about." He finished the glass of water himself. Maxim stared at him with big eyes, trying with soothing words one last time. He had heard you should act calm and understanding when you're in the company of a lunatic. He hoped this was true. He had made a conscious step forward in this thinking, accepting the fact that Christian was mentally unstable. A heat wave flushed through his body. How and what had he escaped then during the months they had been together? Were there obvious signs he had missed? He couldn't remember. The first big glitch was the night when Christian's sex-drive had overpowered his own, and he wouldn't stop. Even then he had defended him. "There was a time we had been close", he started. "What happened to you? I've trusted you and never gave you reason for mistrust. It all happens in your head."

"Have I ever accused you of sleeping with others?"

"Sure you have! Tim and Philipp for instance. And perhaps your brother too." For Maxim it was hard to fight with Christian in the end. He had liked him a great deal. Until everything had changed. What had happened. Where was the turning point? Had Chris changed or was this his true face? That face Gregor had seen before and maybe others before him?

Christian appeared unmoved. "Now, do you want to hear the story or not." Again he pulled Maxim behind him, tossed him upon the bed and sat in an armchair. What should Maxim do? Fight with him? Christian was stronger. Perhaps.

"She finished a roll of tablets and washed it away with the half of a whisky bottle. I copied her actions. And so we peacefully slumbered side by side until the arms of death would embrace us. I awoke with Martin's face hovering over mine, and he was shaking me and then slapping my face. My father came and emptied a bucket full of water over us. When I awoke I was in the hospital. But I've never forgotten that peaceful feeling that comes when you are on the threshold of being dead. Perhaps I've searched my whole life to feel that again. The warmth, the weightlessness. They say you see flowers or a light at the end of a tunnel. I don't think so. There was only darkness, but the darkness was full of life."

Christian stood up and filled his empty glass with whisky. Maxim felt nausea rising.

"Mother was an angry woman. She was unsatisfied. Her husband hasn't turned out to be what she saw in him, before she had fallen in love with him." He giggled. "You see, just like that stupid Sascha-chap in the story your lover wrote." He looked sharply. "He IS your lover, right? Did you complain to him like you did with me when he shoved his fat cock up your arse?

Maxim flinched again. He felt a deadly anger raising in his guts to hear his love for Tim thrown into the dirt. "Shut your mouth", he spat. "You're disgusting. And let me go. I don't want to hear your story."

"Oh no?" Christian's pulled up his brows. "Since when? Your little angel survived last Sunday. I saw him flying straight towards the rolling train." Christian's eyes flickered. "You think it was me? Honestly I can't remember."

Maxim took a deep breath and shook his head. What should he say? Better to hold his mouth and listen.

"My father was weak, although he appeared like a general at work. But at home he was just a whiner, a henpecked husband, you know. He searched for his pleasure under other women's skirts. Mother couldn't bear it. She tried by hurting herself. She tried it by threatening him. She even hit him when she was drunk. Cheers." He lifted his glass and finished the whisky. "It was one of those nights when we were awakened by the noise. There were screaming voices and high pitched laughter. They fought at the top of the staircase. Martin and I wanted to part them, and then it happened." He paused. "She fell over and then down the high staircase and all became silent. She never walked again and she never screamed again. She finally had reached what she had been searching for so long. Death."

Maxim closed his eyes.

"So, was it my fault? Or it was Martin's? Who knows. We both had pushed her. She was gone and peace entered our home. But I can never forget how it was, laying so close to her, waiting for the final breath to come. I longed for that."

He rose.

"Don't you?"

"Pardon?"

"Martin forgot relatively quickly. He went on after a while as if nothing had happened. I pretended to do the same." He pulled Maxim up. "I think you're thirsty. I'll get you something."

Maxim's breath quickened and like a caught animal he tried to search for an escape, but there was no escape. He saw the water glass in Christian's hand. Cloudy water made milky white from melted tablets. Surely Christian didn't seriously think he would swallow this voluntarily?

Maxim thought it was like a slow motion sequence in a bad Hollywood film. But unlike the hero in all those action films he wasn't able to move quickly enough. Christian's facial expression told him it was now either dead or alive. Chris was serious, and only heaven knew what he had in mind. Die with him?

They watched each other like two hostile animals. "Be a good guy and drink this. You'll see. Soon it will be over. All the pain. And you can have me forever."

When Christian tried to force the liquid into his mouth Maxim started to fight. First half-seriously, then with growing strength. He beat the glass out of Christian's hand making it fall and seep into the carpet. He couldn't believe he was now attacking Chris.

"Jesus, you're such a crazy asshole", Maxim cried and flung on him. "I don't want you anymore. Let me go", he pressed through clenched teeth. "Do whatever you want, die alone like a sick animal, but let me go." He managed to gain the upper hand and straddled Christian's body on the carpet. There was a second where Christian seemed to give in, then he doubled his effort and brought Maxim under his own body. "Stop fighting", he hissed, "you can't escape." With one hand he strangled Maxim's wind pipe. "You don't know what's good for you. You're mine for all eternity." His other hand fumbled with his clothes. For a moment he released his grip and Maxim coughed, desperately in need for air. His shirt burst when Christian tugged fiercely at it. His zipper screamed when a brutal hand pulled down the fabric over his hips. Maxim saw red blotches and started to kick his feet. He hit Christian's stomach and abdomen and caused him to gasp, but before Maxim could jump up, Christian was over him again, hitting his head hard on the floor. The hit was muffled by the carpet, but it hurt enough. Maxim saw stars and missed the moment when something went down on his head. In a split second it was as pitch black as death itself.

Yeah, it had been so easy. Now he sat at the rim of the bathtub filled with warm water. He didn't want Maxim to freeze nor to suffer. It would be gentle. Maxim was naked and he adored his body for a last time. A thin thread of blood seeping from his forehead painted a pattern on his pale face along the nose and down his cheek. It passed his mouth and ran over the chin and further down the neck until it mingled with the water. Christian stretched out a finger tip and painted with the blood upon Maxim's cheek. A heart.

There was a tiny, but steady flow of blood running out of Maxim's veins. Veins he had cut open to make it last. He knew he'd done it the wrong way: horizontal slits across his wrists, but it would be better this way. Now he had all the time to tell him what he wanted to tell him a long time ago.

Sighing he took the book and started to read aloud. It sounded like a children's sing song, slowly and with a thin voice. "Yet each men kill the thing they love, by all let this be heard. Some do it with a bitter look. Some with a flattering word. The coward does it with a kiss. The brave man with a sword." *

He clapped shut the book. "And as Dylan Thomas said "Death shall have no dominion." We are immortal. Do you believe in God? We can reach everything just because we are together. I need a companion. Who wants to die alone? And Heaven will be empty without my beloved. I need somebody I can play with at the Elysium Fields." He laughed quietly. "They say those who die by suicide are condemned for all time. They braise in Hell, in an immortal fire. That's rubbish, isn't it. Do you know Dante's nine circles of Hell? Did he mention faggots? I'm sure he did. The perverts, raping children and fornicating with their own gender." He laughed again. "Those poor and damn moronic breeders. When have they ever eaten out an asshole, eh? When has someone ever probed their prostates from the inside, eh? My father is one of them, one of those self-righteous asses. If they only knew how much I laugh at them."

Christian looked troubled. "But I digress." Lovingly, he examined Maxim's pale face. With each drop of blood, running from his veins, life was leaving him. Soon he would be free and all his own for all eternity. He could lift his legs right now for instance and do with him what he wanted, and he would not be able to complain as he did the other night. He could finally satisfy his sex-drive, as if he was doing it with a puppet which could not talk and could not listen and could not object.

Tim cursed that Maxim had given back his cell phone. Was he still with Christian? Had he turned his head again? He couldn't believe it. He sat with the cat upon his lap and worried more with each second that trickled away. What should he do? He searched the telephone book for Christian Kramer and found the number of his office. There was nobody answering. A private number was missing. Tim rummaged in Maxim's clothes to find a private telephone book, but even there he couldn't find Christian's number. Full of despair he rang his father and explained.

Maxim had now been there for hours. He just refused to believe that he had reconciled with Christian. It couldn't be. Not after what happened between them. And he had promised. He held Maxim's note between his trembling fingers "Thanks for making me happy. I love you, Maxim".

Nobody had told him 'I love you' before, and Maxim meant it, he could feel it. He listened to each step on the staircase and jumped when the doorbell rang. But it was just his father and Tobias. He fell into his arms and sobbed. Now all of his hysterical outpouring returned. Moritz stroked his hair and felt as helpless as his son did. He honestly didn't know what to do.

"We should drive to Christian's home then", he heard Tobias saying.

Of course that was the smartest thing to do.

Maxim's lips started fading from pink to white. The thin thread of blood across his face had dried. Christian bent over his body and listened at his chest. It was still heaving, but slowly, and his heartbeat was low and could hardly be heard. He thought it was now time. He took off his clothes and stepped naked into the bathtub, behind Maxim, embracing him. Maxim's blood smelled like copper he realized. Like stained copper. Not exactly pleasing, but when he closed his eyes it was alright. He didn't bat an eye lid when the razor blade cut the skin over his veins at the wrists, opening the old, thin scars. What a way to die, he thought.

"Ok, Tim", Moritz said, "You're absolutely sure that Maxim hasn't returned to his lover, but is probably held captive there, right?" He gave him a searching look.

"Absolutely", Tim said firmly. They sat in Moritz' car in front of Christian's place. Tim saw light in a window under the rooftop which was Christian's flat, so he had to be there.

Moritz stepped out and determinedly went to the entrance. He searched the names and found the brass plate with the names, Christian Kramer & Maxim Sageroff . Moritz stared at it and hesitated. He still hadn't taken Maxim's name off, he thought. Then he rang long and urgently. Nobody was answering. Then the door opened and Moritz stepped aside to let a couple pass by. He caught the door before it closed and waved for the others to follow him.

"Fifteenth floor, under the roof", Tim said, stepping into the silvery elevator. There was just one door on the landing and all three of them gathered to a group and stood in front of it. Moritz rang again. No sound. Then he hammered at the door with his fist. No sound. Tim began calling Maxim's name. No sound.

"Perhaps they've gone and forgot to turn off the lights?"

Tim shook his head. He knew Maxim was here, behind this fucking, unbudging door. And he wasn't doing what his father thought. No. He was being held captive. They didn't know how menacing and how mad Christian was. "He has done something to him", Tim muttered. "Christian has made several attempts at killing himself off."

"What?" Tobias called out. "Why haven't you said anything about this right from the start." He took a deep breath. "Ok, I will call the police now." He pulled out his mobile and pressed 110. He explained to the police it was an emergency case and they should bring the emergency doctor. Finally he even yelled into the phone for it wasn't fast enough for him.

Moritz had taken his son aside. "Commit suicide? Christian? I've met him you remember at your reading." He shook his head and examined Tim's face. "You love Maxim don't you?" he asked surprisingly soft. "You trust him? You don't think we've called the police in error?"

Tim shook his head vehemently. "If he has done something bad to Maxim I don't know what I'll do. Why couldn't he wait until we could go together."

"Was he such a threat?"

"Yes! It's scary what he has done to others. What if he has raped him? He tried to do it before. He did it with other men."

Moritz stroked Tim's pale cheek. "He will survive that. The important thing is that he still be alive." But perhaps we all see white mice when Maxim is celebrating his reconciliation with Christian, Moritz added in his mind. That would be an embarrassment to everyone and devastating for his son. But having met Maxim and getting to know his personality Moritz couldn't imagine he would do this to his son.

Tobias rang again. This time music could be heard, a classical built tenor voice. It wasn't loud but sounded as if it came from a room inside and far away from the door. But it was definitely there and so they must be there too. They looked at each other in silence.

He had to reslash Maxim's wounds because they had closed, and then, with the same, careless and apathetic motion his blade followed his own veins vertically, ripping them open. Then blood began seeping in a steady flood of dark red, heart-blood. It created psychedelic patterns in the water. Dark, and light, thinning and waving and mingling with the rest until he couldn't see Maxim's body anymore. His breast was still heaving, he could feel it. Good. Wait for me then, I follow you.

"Jesus Christ!" The policeman cursed. A female officer blocked the sight from the three upset men with her back and watched as her colleagues hauled the two bodies out of the bathtub that was filled with nausea causing, red water. She saw an arm from which blood was dripping onto the tiled floor. It smelled like copper. She would have liked to open one of the windows, but considering the state of the two young men she decided against it.

"They're alive" one of her colleagues said and spoke into his mobile. He called the emergency docs up, while the other took towels and ripped them into bandages which he wrapped tightly around the wrists of the men. "Don't think we can save one of them. He has lost too much blood. Look at these wounds. Must be a professional."

"Leave it to the docs."

She felt someone push in her back. "Please, let me see him." Hearing a sob behind her she thought 'apparently a huge queer's drama'. Feeling pity she turned and searched the face of the young man, about the same age as the black-haired one in the bath tub. "Do you know what happened?", she asked compassionately and pulled him away. No need for him to see it.

"No, I don't. Well..." He was pushed aside by two docs in flapping white coats, entering the bathroom. Tim followed them with his eyes and was on the brink of crying. "I'm Anna", she said, taking his arm and leading him aside. "Everything is done, don't worry." She looked up. "Who are you?" she asked Moritz.

"His father. Please. We have no clue what happened here." He stepped to his son. Tim tried to look over Anna's shoulder but all he could hear was short orders and injection preparations. His knees wobbled. What if Maxim died?

"Tim told us that he missed his friend, and since he knew he had made a visit to Christian, he worried when he didn't come back in the evening." Moritz paused and shot a wary look at the police woman. "Maxim and Christian had a relationship which Maxim had ended a couple of days ago."

"Shit, we're losing him!" a voice yelled from the bathroom. Tim flinched. "Respiration, quickly." He heard hectic noises and sensed the hands of Tobias upon his shoulders. Anna peered into the bathroom and returned. "Maxim, that's the young man with dark hair?"

Tim nodded.

"He's safe. They are fighting for the life of the other. Is Maxim your friend?" she asked furtively. Better to stop this interrogation. Tomorrow at the police station she would learn more. "Ok... Tim. They'll take them to a hospital. If you like you can go with them." She looked at Moritz. "Please make sure you all will be at the police station tomorrow to give your testimony."

Moritz nodded. Maxim was carried past them on a stretcher. His face was bloodless and his body hidden under a golden, crackling blanket. He was followed by another; the two policemen carried Christian who looked lifeless and dead.

"I need your name and address", Anna said, "then you can go."

Tim rushed out of the room, into the lift and caught the policemen and the young assistant doc carrying Christian. Tim stared at him. "Is he dead?" he asked, knowing, if he was they would have covered his face.

The doc didn't answer.

"Do we need to inform his parents?" Moritz asked. They sat in the hospital's hallway waiting for the doc's statement.

"I don't have an address." Perhaps Phil has it Tim thought. No, he couldn't help anyway. He shivered. He held a paper cup with cold, black and bitter coffee. "They won't tell us about his condition, we aren't family", Tobias said tired. He had leaned his head against the sickly green painted wall, but Tim protested suddenly. "Sure they must!" he called out loud. "We ARE family as well as friends. We are the ones who found him."

"Hey", Moritz caught him. "Stay calm, honey. Surely they will tell us, they aren't heartless monsters, are they."

A relatively young doctor left the examination room. "Are you family waiting for Maxim Sageroff?" he asked.

"Yes." They said in unison and the doc gave them the hint of a smile. "So far, Maxim is off the critical list. The blood loss was dangerously severe, but we came in at just the right time. We have put him into an artificial sleep. He needs to rest." He paused and looked from one to the other. A deep doctor's look. "Is somebody waiting for Christian Kramer?"

"We know him too. Is he alright?"

"He died fifteen minutes ago. There was nothing that we could do. The loss of blood had been too much."

Awkward silence. Tim flopped back onto the bench. Dead. He couldn't believe it. And why had Maxim survived? His trembling reinforced. He heard his father exchanging some words with the doc, then he was gone. "We can see him if you like", he said to Tim.

Tim followed both along the hallway through a glass door to the guard. There he could see him laying in a bed connected to tubes and monitors. "He will be alright soon", Moritz said. "His body has to recover from the blood loss and the concussion to his head. He's young and strong." He lowered his voice. "The doc told me there were two different wounds on each wrist. Either Christian was too weak to open Maxim's veins completely or he didn't want him to die. Perhaps he just wanted the illusion; we will never know."

Moritz felt Tobias hand in his own. Life itself wrote the oddest of stories.

"Will he stand between us from now on?" Tim asked.

Maxim turned his eyes on him. He had been discharged from the hospital and was now recovering at home. Tim hadn't left his side for a minute. Maxim thought with affection that Tim didn't allow him to stand up or do anything and served him like a concerned mother hen. Slowly he sat up and swung his legs out over the edge of the bed. "Listen, angel. I need to walk for a while. I'm sore all over." His wrists were still bandaged. There surely would be remaining scars as memento mori.

He leaned himself on Tim's shoulder and slipped into his sandals. He felt strong and vivid again, very vivid as compared to Christian. It had hit him stronger that he would have thought possible when he heard about his death.

"I'll never forget him if that's it what you mean", he said low, looking deeply into Tim's eyes. "None of us will ever forget him." He embraced Tim's body and pressed him tightly to his own. "I owe you my life. In the short time between returning there alone and then realizing it was a mistake, because I had no possible way to escape, the only thing I could think of was you. What you would do, and what would you would think of me. Now confess, you thought I had returned to Chris, didn't you." His voice had become playful.

"No, honestly, I didn't!" Tim called out. "Well... for a brief minute. But I had your letter."

Maxim took Tim's hand and walked with him through his flat, Coco in tow. He too hadn't left his master a second. Maxim felt stronger with each new day. Standing at the door that lead to the balcony he stretched his body. A few sunbeams lurked out between low hanging, dark clouds. In a couple of days it would be Tim's birthday and also the big day for Tobias and Moritz. Despite the fact it was leaving a bitter and uneasy taste on his tongue, he was happy for them. It would be the biggest party Made in Heaven had ever seen. Even Martin had agreed to come. The loss of his twin had hit him hard. Regardless of their lack of closeness recently, a part of him had been severed.

Tim embraced Maxim from behind, stroking his arms and hands. Then he turned him round and lifted a part of the bandage to see how it was healing. "You need more ointment to keep it smooth", he said, unwrapping the bandages completely.

They looked at the pink thin scars leading across his wrists. Tim's fingertips slid over them. His face was unreadable, part pain and part relief. Maxim lifted his chin. "He'll never stand between us. I will forget." He started to kiss him, and then they were there again: Tim's mind blowing kisses. Christian faded more with each second they stood together and he would eventually become an unfilled silhouette without a face. Maxim could only hope Chris had found what he had longed for. Peace.

"I love you", he whispered, and everything fell from him. He kissed Tim's neck and nibbled at his ear. His hands roamed over Tim's body, shoving up his pullover to feel his naked skin.

Tim chuckled. "I'm not that easy to get", he said.

"No? Let's see..."

END

________________________________________ * Poem by Oscar Wilde "The Ballad of Reading Goal"